Knock on the Door of Intolerance
by Sion Rothson
Summary: Guntz is on a mission to escort the High Priestess to Mira Mira. Along the way he meets many fimilar faces and some unfimilar ones.Among them,one annoying cabbit and one cat he never thought he'd seee again. GuntzX...someone. I don't know. Probley Klonoa.
1. Knock at the Door of Intolerance

**Oi read me punk:** Rated T for some language and later chapters. Oh yeah! Klonoa and other Namco characters don't belong to me. If they did...well... I'll leave that one to you.

**Author Notes:**Okay people. Sorry you stumbled on my sorry excuse for a story. I'm a new writer, sue me. Klonoa happens to be one of my favorite game series, so why not write alittle someting about it, eh? Please feel free to leave suggestions, I could use them.

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This was the night. It would finally be done. Tonight the hunter would die. Sixty-four men counting the clown. He chose this spot carefully for he knew the hunter used it often, but not for long.

The clown caressed the gun carefully. He diden't know much about guns but, this was given to him by the great Garlen. It would do.

The street was silent save for the russling of Moobirds atop the roofs. The night was dark, illuminated only by one flickering street light and the moon itself.

Finally footsteps were heard. The hunter had arrived. The clown signaled to his men on the ground as well as the ones on the rooftops. The hollow footsteps got closer and a red jacket became visible. That damn jacket, one the clown was sick of seeing. One that he'd never see again.

"So," the hunter mused, "the last seventeen times weren't enough?"

"You got lucky those time, but now you're mine," the clown spat. Seventeen times. No joke. Most would have given up at four, nine at most. But not the clown. He'd earned his reputation and planed to keep it. The clown shifted his weight feeling uncomfortable. Sweat had not accumlated on his brow, but he paid no attension to it hoping his men woulden't notice.

The hunter lifted a finger and started imitating gunshots. He moved his finger from the ground to the air. "Sixty-four men including yourself. You'll owe me a cartrage after tonight, you know..." The hunter said.

"Screw you!" the clown screamed as he opened fire. The rest of his men followed the suit and tore at the hunter with their own weapons. Dust picked up and all that could be seen was the red flash of the hunter's jacket as he ducked and dodged. The clown followed even if it ment taking down his own men in the process.

"Dammit," the clown screeched as his gun ran out of bullets. He frantically pulled out another clip. Once loaded he pointed back at the cloud of dust.

"You gone to Hell yet?" he asked looking for anything. The smoke cleared and bloody bodies littered the street. All the bodies but not a hint of red other then his men's own blood.

"Calm down, you woulden't want to burst would you?" A voice sounded from behind. The clown whipped around and had his gun smacked from him by the hunter. The clown dove for his gun and whipped around.

"Go to HELL!" he screeched. A loud shot rang out across the town, but not the kind that fuels a bullet. The gun exploded in the clowns hand sending metal shards into his eyes and across the cold cobblestone street. The clown just sunk to the ground and cursed.

The hunter just chuckled to himself. "That's what you get for using a bootleg," the hunter mused, "if you want to kill someone, especially me, I suggest you buy Volkan."

"Just what the hell are you really?" the clown asked.

"I've wasted sixty-three bullets and all I got is some blood on my favorite jacket," the hunter spoke as he slid his now blood stained jacket off. The jacked revealed a slender build and golden fur. Along with a black sleeveless shirt and two bullet belts.

"I need this cleaned and another clip by morning, and remember to tip," the hunter remarked. The hunter threw the jacket at the defeated clown. It covered his body as well as his shame.

"I said what the HELL are you?" the clown asked again. The hunter threw the clown a cold glare.

"You of all people should know," the hunter answered, "I'm Shinigami Guntz."


	2. Lucid Dreams that Captivate the Dammed

**Oi read me, rawr:** People, we have a problem. The Klonoa catagory needs more stories. Frickin' Gaia Online has more fanfics then Klonoa. C'mon. Write people, for the love of god, write. Oh, and Klona 'n' company belong to Namco. Blah, blah, blah logic.

**Author Notes:** Not much happens, but I like it more than the first chapter. Things'll pick up soon promise. Leave me some reviews too. I love them. With my mouth.

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Ahhh, the Smokin' Moo. My kind of bar. A place that would make the hardest of cops homesick, and for good reason. Only the unlucky found themselves at the Smokin' Moo's doorsteep. Located among a mesh of run down buildings complete with busted out windows and in a dark allyway with little hospitality. Enough to make your mother weep. Low prices kept the daredevils comming, and a few gunshots sent them running. A hunter's heaven.

Though a hunter was about anything but what I was feeling at the moment. I was currently stuck in a black sleaveless for the moment. Thanks to that idiot clown. I might just shoot him out of spite next we meet. Most hunters covered themselves as much as possible. We've alot to hide, plus the scars keep us from sunbathing. I dought I'll have a problem anyway. I'm a frickin' god to these morons.

I placed my hand on the door and braced myself. At the slightest hint of a crack a wave of cigarette smoke slammed into my face. I stumbled backwards, but suppressed the urge to cough up my lungs. A personal record. I quickly adjusted to the muffled atmosphere and took a set at the bar.

Soon enough the owner of the joint greeted me with his usual grunt. Joe was his name. He diden't talk much. He gave grunts and an occasional yes or no. He rarely spoke more than three words in a sentence, but when he did everyone knew better than to ignore him. Not due his twelve gauge under the counter. Well, maybe a little. I diden't know how old the huskey was but he was one of the few I respected. His family was lost during the Volkan Civil War that still raged on even now. Not many people knew this, I just overheard during a drinking session I once had with him.

"Well, that's a bold statement," a voice sounded from behind me. Cid, my informant. I diden't even have to look, his accent was more than enough. I just finished my first drink, non-alcholic I knew better than to get loopy before signing up for a job, when Cid sat beside me. The shortstop of a racoon was one of my better informants. Middle aged with almost no connections. Family, mob, or otherwise. Which was good for me, I mean, no ties no revenge if anything bad were to happen.

"Joka again," I said supposing his comment was due to the lack of my signature jacket.

"What tha hell eva man," He said. "Just set yer eyes on this little number." A folder was slapped down at my hands. With a sigh I lifted it up and started to skim through it.

"Ten thousand dreamstones, eh?" I said aloud. "What do I have to do, kidnap the High frickin Priestess?"

"Just tha oppsite wiseass. You hav to escort her lardship to Mira Mira for some big wig meetin' or some crap."

I think I threw up in my mouth a little. The High Priestess was the head of the church. The church lead to priests and priestesses. That ment Lolo and lolo ment Klonoa. I took in a deep breath.

"Absolutly fucking not." I stated. I think Cid threw up a little too by the look on his face.

"Tha hell do you mean 'absolutly not'!?" he stammered. "Seriously, when's tha last time you had a job, eh? Eh? I nee- I mean. You need the money!"

Dammit. He was right. I was almost out of funds. Due to the recent peace time, in the rest of the world that is, jobs were scarce. Bloody hell I do not want to see his idioic face again. Klonoa. Money. Klonoa. Money... Shit.

"Joe," I almost shouted getting him to quickly spin around due to my volume change.

"I'm about to do something pritty frickin' retarted," I said in a normal voice. A smile slowly spread across his face. He took a bottle from his impressive collection, gave it a shake or two, then firmly slammed it in front of me. I put a healthy bill on the counter and wrapped one hand around the neck of the fairly sizeable bottle.

"Cid," I then addressed,"I'm in. Have everything set up by tomorrow morning." Cid diden't respond. He just looked on with an utter expression of stupid mixed with suprise on his face.

"Oi," I shouted breaking his trance of stupidity.

"Uhhh... yeah sure. Tomorrow. Just don't die on tha way home," he replied.

I lifted the bottle high in the air and drank. Rum. It was good.

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Bah. Boring. Effin YAWN. Sorry guys. I suck with plot. Plot? Who needs plot.


	3. Gears Rotate to the Beat of Departure

**Author Notes:** I'm slowly starting to hate WordPad. Alot. Rawr. Anyhow, enjoy the chapter and leave me some love 'k?

**Legal Blab:** Klonoa and buddies are not owned be me, hokai?

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I hate mornings. I really do. The first rays of morning pierced into my eyes and I awoke with a curse. I really need to get some curtains. My inturnal clock told me it was around six thirty-ish. I usually awake around one in the afternoon-ish. Why so late? Because all my meeting and missions are taken in the dead of night. I had to guess what time it was due to the absence of a clock. I had enough money to get one, but then I'd feel restrected. I do what I want, when I want dammit.

My room was lit in an orangy glow that made my fur shine with radience. Yes, my room. I am one of the few in Volk to own one of these 'houses'. The paint was peeling of the walls, doors hung from single hindges, and the kitchen...lets just say I only buy precooked foods. I'm only here when I'm not roaming the streets, at the Smokin' Moo, or for sleep. But it was home.

I quickly checked myself over. I'd lost my shirt, belts, and goggles. No scars, well new ones anyway. I searched my mind and found I had no memory of leaving the Smokin' Moo and now. Joe's brew must be stronger then I thought.

I shook myself awake for the most part and threw on some 'clean' clothes. My usual attire. Black. I found my goggles discarded on the floor and strapped them on too.

Then I moved to my favorate room. I breathed in deeply and took in the deep, rich aroma of coffee and gunpowder. I grabbed a mug and sipped at it. I was suprised that I was conscious enough to prepair it for the morning.

I glanced over my collection tring to decide what to take. My handguns will always go where I go. The fact that I'm escorting means there will be snipers. My rifle is a must. Assassins will be present too. They are known for being quick and nimble during close quarters combat. My hunting knife. Grenades are nice. I'll take my shotgun to for good measure. I thought about my bazooka for a few moments, but with the grenades and my rifle. It's a little overkill, I'm not tring to start a war. Poison might be a factor too. My medicine book might come in handy along with some herbs and ointment.

I quickly finished the rest of my coffee and place my weapons in the approite hoisters. I diden't have much ammunition. I had three clips, two packs of rifle ammo, some fifteen shotgun shells, and eight grenades. I gathered what little dreamstones I had and headed for the door.

Once outside I noticed a package and an envolope at my feet. I diden't bother taking them inside. Upon opening the package I found my red jacket fully repaired. I eagerly placed it over my shoulders and felt like myself again. I transfered all my ammunition to my jacket along with the extra clip included in the package as well.

Next was the envelope. I was reluctant to pick it up because I knew what was inside.

_To the recipient, _

_We thank you for accepting our request. Make your way to the Church of the Goddess Claire atop La-Lakoosha. We will expect you on the 23rd of this month. Enclosed with this letter is a pass to be presented upon arrival and half the promised sum. _

I quickly dove into the sizable envelope and found five thousand dreamstones glittering at the bottom. I gathered them up and placed them in several pockets. I don't need to be carrying all this money around but it's safer with me than at home. My ammunition problem has just been solved.

I folded up the envelope and somehow found room for it in my stuffed jacket. I thought about how I was to get to the church and cursed. I can't take my red clan up a mountian. Damn. I'd have to walk. The trip to La-Lakoosha took at least two days on foot and the mountian trek would take a half a day atleast. Good thing it was the twenty first.

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Bah. I write small chapters. I'm tring to update weekly so I guess I shoulden't conplain. More characters form the Klonoa universe will be present next chapter I promice.


	4. Courtship Politics Rot the Mind

**Disclaimer;** I don't own. Blah blah. Namco rights. Blah. Logic.

**Author's Mindless Rambleing:** Week late. Meh. I had some arts to do.(i.e. I was lazy.) Section still needs more Klonoa fics. D I'mma do my part.

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The trip to La-Lakoosha was alot more boring than one would think. It only took me a day and a half to reach the town of La-Lakoosha. I spent the rest of my second day to get a bite to eat and spent the night in comfort. The trip up the mountain was equally as boring. No suprise attacks, no abstructions, not even a frickin' moo. Where's the love? I made good time and arrived around what I guessed to be about eleven o'clock. The church was...white. A horrid eyesore. White. What an obnoxious color. As soon as the guards spotted me they sprung into action.

"Wha- What do y-y-you want fiend?" the first one stuttered. Hell, it even looked like he pissed his pants alittle. Had stories of the Golden Killer, i.e. yours truley, really reached this far? I put my hands up defensively.

"Chill out. I'm just here on some business," I spoke as less threatenly as possible. Which wasen't the easist thing for me mind you.

"W-what kind of business devil?" the other chirpped in. I wanted so badly to just take them out. It would be so much eaiser that way. I reached in my jacket, slowly, and produced the envelope I was sent. I then placed the note along with the High Priestess's pass into the first guard's trembling hands. He looked it over in horror, realisation setting in. I enjoyed that look. The look of total despair.

"Very well," he started with a deep sigh, "Take the main hallway all the way to the High Priestess's audience chamber." I thanked the guard with a smirk and small salute.

The inside was...white. I suppose a different color would be too sane for a priestess. The carefully blown stained glass, banners, and red carpet were the only things to keep me from losing my mind.

I glanced down one of the hallway out of courisoty and stopped. A small boy stood not twenty feet away from me. He was looking right at me as if he knew I was going to be there. He started to move closer and I began to take in his features. His fur was colored in a lite green with white along his muzzle and chest. He had long ears which sported the same color scheme. He wore a pair of plain white jeans, red bands on his arms, and a vibrant golden collar. But his eyes were what struck me the most. They were blood red. They seemed to stare directly into my existance. I was alittle frightended to tell the truth.

"He misses you," the entity spoke. His voice was chilling. As if it radiated sorrow. I was about to question him when he spoke again.

"He misses you more than you think."

"Who?"

"And you miss him too."

"Kid, what are you talking about?"

"The dream traveler."

Oh hell. How does this child know Klonoa? Well, I suppose that dosen't matter. This must mean that Klonoa is here and it's only a matter of time til he finds me. I started to walk away when the child stopped me.

"Wait," he more commanded than said.

"Yes?" I asked, turning to face him. He reached into his pocket and produced a red hand gun clip.

"Take this and use it when the time is right," He said as he gingerly placed it in my hands. I diden't bother asking when the time was right. It was a rhetorical question. I accepted his gift without a word and placed it in my back pocket.

I finally reached the end of the hallway and flashed my pass to the guards. The room I entered had a high set celing which banners fell down from, never to reach the ground. It was colored in...well, you probley already know what. The high and mighty High Priestess sat atop her throne. Once recognized, her eyes went wide.

"What business do _you_ have amongst this haven, shinigami?" she frantically asked. I diden't like the was she said 'you'. It felt as if she were looking down upon me.

"Woah babe," I said holding my hands up defensively, for the second time today. "That had enough venom in it to kill a Frankinmoo. I'm hurt."

"What. Do. You. Want," she stressed, clutching her throne.

"You called a hunter and got the best, be grateful."

"We would never have a need for the help of a killer."

"Oh no?" I asked producing her note from my jacket,"then pray tell who's handwritting this is."

The High Priestess rubbed her temple as if cursing her decision to hire help. I just chuckled to myself.

"Very well, we depart tomorrow. You may stay the night in one of our pilgrim quarters."

"Just us two?"

"More information will be given in the morning," Bah. She diden't trust me. Women and their secerts.

"Very well," I mocked.

"One more thing," she added," we ask that you leave your weapons in storage for the night."

I blinked. My weapons... Is this women on drugs? I had to force out my next words,"No way in Hell."

"Come again?" She asked as if pretending not to have heard me.

"Fuck. You." I replied, very audibly.

She held out the contract I produced to her moments before and asked, "You did read over the terms, yes?"

"Well I..."

"Article two, line five."

She passed me the contract and I glanced through it. And I'll be dammed. It clearly stated that '_all and any weapons are subject to be confiscated upon arrival'_. Just my luck. I threw the contract at her and started removing my gear. The High Priestess called in a scrawny looking man and he started collecting my babies. I felt naked. Naked and blind. Naked, blind, and in a coma. You get the idea.

"I'm allowed to keep my pants, right?" I asked. Might as well hand them over too. I'd already lost the rest of my pride. Just then the main door opened. I turned to get a better look and instantly regreated it.

"Hay, Guntz," a youth yelled in an ear deffining volume. Klonoa. I instintively reached for my guns but gripped empty air. _Shit._ My body then shifted for fight to flight. I could jump out of one of these glass windows. I dought the fall would kill me. Or maybe I could snap my own neck. Quick, painless, and quiet.

Too late. The cabbit was meer feet away. He spread his arms in what I guess was suppost to be a hug of some sort. I sidesteaped his lunge and left him hugging empty space.

"No touching," I spoke.

I directed my attension back to the High Priestess, "So...about this room?"

"Lolo," her highlyness said,"Would you please show our _guest_ to the pilgram quarters?"

"Yes, High Priestess," the less annoying youth responded. I haden't even noticed her presence. I'm getting sloppy. Or maybe I'm too busy dodging retards. Anyhow, she led out of the large room, without Klonoa to my comfort.

Once there she asked if I needed anything. I responded that I would rest til the morning. I gave her a weak wave and headed inside the room. It was spaceous. I was loaded with two beds, a dressure, two lamps, a mirror, and a small rug. I headed over to the dressure and placed my jacket atop it. I then slid off my shirt and placed it by my jacket. Next followed my gloves, goggles, and socks. Once added to the pile, I placed my boots neatly beside one of the two beds. I then flopped down one the bed and it was suprisingly comfortable. I soon drifted off to sleep.

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Ok, ok. Just to clear things up. I don't hate Klonoa. I'm just writing in Guntz's POV which requires some RAWR. Sorry if it came off as Klonoa bashing. Next chaper Klonoa and Guntz get in a fight. C: A BATTLE TO THE DEATH. Death of pride that is. *scoffs*


	5. Oliver

**Legal Crap:** I'm poor and own nothing. :D

**Author Notes:** I'm lazy? :D?

I have always been a light sleeper, so it's no wonder when I awoke to a slight russelling. My eyes opened to white. Only one day in this nut house and I alerady lothed the color white. My gaze repaired itself from the light and centered on a half naked cabbit. I never noticed it before but, I really adored his rich ebony black fur. It was almost as lush as my own and streached from his head to the bottom of his feet. With his arms thin and his stomach flat, I wondered how I lost many times to such a twig. Wait...why the HELL am I describing his figure!? Ummm... I awoke to a scrawny boy stupidly getting ready for bed...yes, much more accruate.

"Oh...I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" He asked. I had just turned my back before he noticed my concious state.

"Yes," I answered. No need to sugar coat it..."It's alright, the slighest sound can distrub me. Don't worry about it."

"Oh...alright. Hey Guntz?"

"Yes?"

"PILLOW FIGHT!~"

Before I could process what he shouted a white ball of collided with the back of my head. I turned my head with a morgue look on my face. The cabbit face flushed. He looked as if he thought I'd chew him out.

"Is that a challenge?" I decided to play along.

Klonoa's face lit up and he spit his tongue out at me in responce. I gripped his discarded pillow and slung it back at him. He dove behind his bed and I took refuge behind mine. We each had two pillows and about twelve feet between us. The small room soon turned into a battlefield as white missles were launched between us. I had a strange feeling. Even though he said 'fight' it diden't feel like one. When I fight it's usually to the death, but this was...fun?

My thought was cut short as I deflected a fluffy slug and retalliated by launching one into his chest. Silence loomed. This next action would determine the winner. Klonoa decided to take a chance. He lept atop his bed and tossed his last pillow at me, which I took to the shoulder. Now he was defenceless. I took up a pillow in each hand and fired one at his legs. I was rewarded with the dull thud of him falling atop his bed. I quickly lept upon him and began to smother him in white fluff.

I began to laugh menically,"You like that!? Huh? HUH!?" I applied more pressure as his arms flailed in a poor attempt for air.

"Gunths, ah canph breapth," was all I could make out.

The I heard the sound of a door open. I turned my head and looked upon none other that Lolo, mouth agape and red faced Lolo. It was then I noticed how caught up I was in our game. I also noticed how awkward my position was compaired to Klonoa's. Both Klonoa and I were without shirts, sweating, and pressing against eachother. I was strattling the young boy and suffocating him at the same time. And I doubt the loud thumping noises helped the image much. This was either Lolo's worst nightmare or greatest dream.

"I-I-I'm So Sorry!" She stuttered before quickly slamming the door shut. Nightmare then.

"Son of a bitch," I sighed, removing myself from the young cabbit.

"Was that Lolo?" he asked.

"Yeah... she saw everything too," I answered.

"Well what's so bad about a pillow fight?" he asked noticing my change in tone.

I just stared dumbfounded at him. Was he really so innocent? Even though he'd been covered with a pillow, it diden't take a genious to understand the awkward moment that just passed. I had thought Klonoa was naive, but damn.

"You idiot," I tried to explain it as softly as I could," she thought we were going to have sex." Too blunt? It took him awhile to process what I said.

"WHAT?!?" He shouted in an ear deffining scream.

I just closed my eyes and let sleep take over.

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Ya know when you have one of those scenes where you just can't wait to write? This was one of them. And with that, I have no idea which direction to take my fanfic. So it might be awhile before this series is continued. D:


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